The Marchioness of Créqui was a lady in the high circles of society, to

whom a copy of the eulogium of the author of _Vert-Vert_ was presented

as an offering. Some days after Bailly went to pay her a visit; did he

hope to hear her speak favourably of the new work? I know not. At all

events, our predecessor would have been ill rewarded for his curiosity.

"Do you know," said the great lady as soon as she saw him, "a Eulogy of

Gresset recently published? The author has sent me a copy of it, without

naming himself. He will probably come to see me; he may, perhaps, have

come already. What could I say to him? I do not think any one ever wrote

worse. He mistakes obscurity for profundity; it is the darkness before

the creation."

Notwithstanding all Bailly's efforts to change the subject of the

conversation, perhaps on account of those very efforts, the Marchioness

rose, goes in search of the pamphlet, puts it into the author's hands,

and begs of him to read aloud, if it be but the first page--quite

enough, she said, to enable one to judge of the rest.

Bailly used to read remarkably well. I leave it to be guessed whether,

on this occasion, he was able to exercise this talent. Superfluous

trouble! Madame de Créqui interrupted him at each sentence by the most

disagreeable commentaries, by exclamations such as the following:

"Detestable style!" "Confusion worse confounded!" and other similar

amenities. Bailly did not succeed in extorting any indulgences from

Madame de Créqui, when, fortunately, the arrival of another visitor put

an end to this insupportable torture.

Two years after this, Bailly having become the first personage in the

city, some booksellers collected all his opuscula and published them.

This time, the Marchioness, who had lost all recollection of the scene

that I have been describing, overpowered the Mayor of Paris with

compliments and felicitations on account of this same eulogy, which she

had before treated with such inhuman rigour.

Such a contrast excited the mirth of the author. Still, might I dare to

say so, Madame de Créqui was, perhaps, sincere on both occasions; had

the exaggerations of praise and of criticism been put aside, it would

not have been impossible to defend both opinions. The early pages of

the pamphlet might appear embarrassed and obscure, whilst in the rest

there might be found great refinement, elegance, and appreciations full

of taste.

ASSEMBLY OF THE NOTABLES.--BAILLY IS NAMED FIRST DEPUTY OF PARIS; AND

SOON AFTER DEAN OR SENIOR OF THE DEPUTIES OF THE COMMUNES.

The Assembly of the Notables had no other effect than to show in a

stronger light the disorder of the finances, and the other wounds that

were galling France. It was then that the Parliament of Paris asked for

the convocation of the States General. This demand was unfavourably

received by Cardinal de Brienne. Soon afterwards the convocation became

a necessity, and Necker, now in the ministry, announced, in the month of

November, 1788, that it was decreed in Council, and that the king had

even granted to the third estate a double representation, which had been

so imprudently disputed by the courtiers.

The districts were formed, on the king's convocation, the 21st of April,

1789. That day was the first day of Bailly's political life. It was on

the 21st of April that the Citizen of Chaillot, entering the Hall of the

_Feuillants_, imagined, he said, that "he breathed a new atmosphere,"

and regarded "as a phenomenon that he should have become something in

the body-politic, merely from his being a citizen."

The elections were to be made in two gradations. Bailly was named first

elector of his district. A few days after, at the general meeting, the

Assembly called him to the Board in quality of secretary. Thus it was

our fellow-academician who, in the beginning, drew up the celebrated

_procès-verbal_ of the meetings of the electors of Paris, so often

quoted by the historians of the revolution.

Bailly also took an active part in drawing up the records of his

district, and the records of the body of electors. The part he acted in

these two capacities could not be doubtful, if we judge of it by the

three following short quotations extracted from his memoirs: "The nation

must remember that she is sovereign and mistress to order every

thing.... It is not when reason awakes, that we should allege ancient

privileges and absurd prejudices.... I shall praise the electors of

Paris who were the first to conceive the idea of prefacing the French

Constitution with a declaration of the Rights of Man."

Bailly had always been so extremely reserved in his conduct and in his

writings, that it was difficult to surmise under what point of view he

would consider the national agitation of '89. Hence, at the very

beginning, the Abbé Maury, of the French Academy, proposed to unite

himself to Bailly, and that they should reside at Versailles, and have

an apartment in common between them. It is difficult to avoid a smile

when one compares the conduct of the eloquent and impetuous Abbé with

the categorical declarations, so distinct and so progressive, of the

learned astronomer.

On Tuesday, the 12th of May, the general assembly of the electors

proceeded to ballot for the nomination of the first deputy of Paris.

Bailly was chosen.

This nomination is often quoted as a proof of the high intelligence, and

of the wisdom of our fathers, two qualities which, since that epoch,

must have been constantly on the decline, if we are to believe the blind

Pessimists. Such an accusation imposed on me the duty of carrying the

appreciation of this wisdom, of this intelligence that is held up

against us, even to numerical correctness. The following is the result:

the majority of the votes was 159; Bailly obtained 173; this was

fourteen more than he required. If fourteen votes had changed sides the

result would have been different. Was this an incident, I ask, to

exclaim so much against?

Bailly showed himself deeply affected by this mark of the confidence

with which he was regarded. His sensibility, his gratitude, did not

prevent him, however, from recording in his memoirs the following

_naïve_ observation: "I observed in the Assembly of the Electors a great

dislike for literary men, and for the academicians."

I recommend this remark to all studious men who, by circumstances or by

a sense of duty, may be thrown into the whirlpool of politics. Perhaps I

may yield to the temptation of developing it, when I shall have to

characterize Bailly's connection with his co-laborers in the first

municipality of Paris.

The great question on the verification of the powers was already

strongly agitated, the day that Bailly and the other Deputies of Paris

for the first time were able to go to Versailles; our academician had

only spoken once in that majestic assembly, viz: to induce the adoption

of the method of voting by members being _seated_ or _standing_,--when,

on the 3d of June, he was named Senior of the Deputies of the Communes

(or Commons). Formerly, the right of presiding in the third house of the

kingdom belonged to the provost of the merchants. Bailly in his

diffidence thought that the assembly, in assigning the chair to him, had

wished to compensate the capital for the loss of an old privilege. This

consideration induced him to accept of a duty that he thought above his

powers,--he who always depicted himself as timid to an extreme, and not

possessing a facility of speaking.

Men's minds were more animated, more ardent in 1789 than those would

admit who always see in the present a faithful image of the past. But

calumny, that murderous arm of political party, already respected no

position. Knowledge, loyalty, virtue, did not suffice to shelter any one

from its poisoned darts. Bailly experienced it on the very day after his

nomination to such an eminent post as President of the Communes.

On the 29th of May, the Communes had voted an address to the king on the

constantly recurring difficulties that the nobility opposed to the union

of the States General in one assembly. In order to carry out this most

solemn deliberation, Bailly solicited an audience, in which the moderate

and respectful expression of the anxiety of six hundred loyal deputies

was to be presented to the monarch. In the midst of these strifes the

Dauphin died. Without taking the trouble to consult dates, the court

party immediately represented Bailly as a stranger to the commonest

proprieties, and totally deficient in feeling; he ought, they said, to

have respected the most allowable of griefs; his importunities had been

barbarous.

I had imagined that such ridiculous accusations were no longer thought

of; the categorical explanations that Bailly himself gave on this topic,

seemed to me as if they would have sufficed to convince the most

prejudiced. I was deceived, Gentlemen; the reproach of violence, of

brutal insensibility, has just been repeated by the pen of a clever and

a conscientious man. I will give his recital: "Scarcely two hours had

elapsed since the royal child had breathed his last sigh, when Bailly,

President of the Third Estate, insisted on admission to the king, who

had prohibited any one being allowed to intrude upon him. But so

positive was the demand, that they were obliged to yield, and Louis XVI.

exclaimed, 'There are then no fathers in that chamber of the Third

Estate.' The chamber very much applauded this trait of brutal

insensibility in Bailly, which they termed a trait of Spartan stoicism."

As many errors as words. The following is the truth. The illness of the

Dauphin had not prevented the two privileged orders from being received

by the king. This preference offended the Communes. They ordered the

President to solicit an audience. He discharged his duty with great

caution. All his proceedings were concerted with two ministers, Necker

and M. de Barentin. The king answered, "It is impossible for me to see

M. Bailly in the situation in which I am to-night, nor to-morrow

morning, nor to fix a day for receiving the deputation of the Third

Estate." The note ends with these words: "Show my note to M. Bailly for

his vindication."

Thus, on the day of these events the Dauphin was not dead; thus the king

was not obliged to yield, he did not receive Bailly; thus the chamber

had no act of insensibility to applaud; thus Louis XVI. perceived so

clearly that the President of the Communes was fulfilling the duties of

his office, that he felt it requisite to give him an exoneration.

The death of the Dauphin happened on the 4th of June. As soon as the

assembly of the Third Estate were informed of it, they charged the

President, I quote the very words, "to report to their majesties the

deep grief with which this news had penetrated the Communes."

A deputation of twenty members, having Bailly at their head, was

received on the 6th. The President thus expressed himself: "Your

faithful Communes are deeply moved by the circumstance in which your

majesty has the goodness to receive their deputation, and they take the

liberty to address to you the expression of all their regrets, and of

their respectful sensibility."

Such language can, I think, be delivered without uneasiness to the

appreciation of all good men.

Let us be correct; the Communes did not obtain at once the audience that

they demanded on account of the difficulties of the ceremonial. They

would have wished to make the Third Estate speak kneeling. "This

custom," said M. de Barentin, "has existed from time immemorial, and if

the king wished...." "And if twenty-five millions of men do not wish

it," exclaimed Bailly, interrupting the minister, "where are the means

to force them?" "The two privileged orders," replied the Guard of the

Seals, somewhat stunned by the apostrophe, "no longer require the Third

Estate to bend the knee; but, after having formerly possessed immense

privileges in the ceremonial, they limit themselves now to asking some

difference. This difference I cannot find." "Do not take the trouble to

seek for it," replied the President hastily: "however slight the

difference might be, the Communes will not suffer it."

This digression was required through a grave and recent error. The

memory of Bailly will not suffer by it, since it has afforded me the

opportunity of establishing, beyond any reply, that in our fellow

academician a noble firmness was on occasions allied to urbanity,

mildness, and politeness. But what will be said of the puerilities which

I have been obliged to recall, of the mean pretensions of the courtiers

on the eve of an immense revolution? When the Greeks of the Lower

Empire, instead of going on the ramparts valiantly to repel the attacks

of the Turks, remained night and day collected around some sophists in

their lyceums and academies, their sterile debates at least related to

some intellectual questions; but at Versailles, there was nothing in

action, on the part of two out of three orders, but the most miserable

vanity.

By an express arrangement, decreed from the beginning, among the Members

of the Communes, the Dean or President had to be renewed every week.

Notwithstanding the incessant representations of Bailly, this

legislative article was long neglected, so fortunate did the Assembly

feel in having at their head this eminent man, who to undeniable

knowledge, united sincerity, moderation, and a degree of patriotism not

less appreciated.

He thus presided over the Third Estate on the memorable days that

determined the march of our great revolution.

On the 17th of June, for instance, when the Deputies of the Communes,

worn out with the tergiversations of the other two orders, showed that

in case of need they would act without their concurrence, and resolutely

adopted the title of National Assembly,--they provided against presumed

projects of dissolution, by stamping as illegal all levies of

contribution which were not granted by the Assembly.

Again, on the 20th of June, when the Members of the National Assembly,

affronted at the Hall having been closed and their meetings suspended

without an official notification, with only the simple form of placards

and public criers, as if a mere theatre was in question, they assembled

at a tennis-court, and "took an oath never to separate, but to assemble

wherever circumstances might render it requisite, until the Constitution

of the Kingdom should be established and confirmed on solid

foundations."

Once more, Bailly was still at the head of his colleagues on the 23d of

June, when, by an inexcusable inconsistency, and which perhaps was not

without some influence on the events of that day, the Deputies of the

Third Estate were detained a long time at the servants' door of the Hall

of Meeting, and in the rain; while the deputies of the other two orders,

to whom a more convenient and more suitable entrance had been assigned,

were already in their places.

The account that Bailly gave of the celebrated royal meeting on the 23d

of June, does not exactly agree with that of most historians.

The king finished his speech with the following imprudent words: "I

order you, Gentlemen, to separate immediately."

The whole of the nobility and a portion of the clergy retired; while the

Deputies of the Communes remained quietly in their places. The Grand

Master of the Ceremonies having remarked it, approaching Bailly said to

him, "You heard the king's order, Sir?" The illustrious President

answered, "I cannot adjourn the Assembly until it has deliberated on

it." "Is that indeed your answer, and am I to communicate it to the

king?" "Yes, Sir," replied Bailly, and immediately addressing the

Deputies who surrounded him, he said, "It appears to me that the

assembled nation cannot receive an order."

It was after this debate, at once both firm and moderate, that Mirabeau

addressed from his place the well-known apostrophe to M. de Brézé. The

President disapproved both of the basis and the form of it; he felt that

there was no sufficient motive; for, said he, the Grand Master of the

Ceremonies made use of no menace; he had not in any way insinuated that

there was an intention to resort to force; he had not, above all, spoken

of bayonets. At all events, there is an essential difference between the

words of Mirabeau as related in almost all the Histories of the

Revolution, and those reported by Bailly. According to our illustrious

colleague the impetuous tribune exclaimed, "Go tell those who sent you,

that the force of bayonets can do nothing against the will of the

nation." This is, to my mind, much more energetic than the common

version. The expression, "We will only retire by the force of bayonets!"

had always appeared to me, notwithstanding the admiration conceded to

it, to imply only a resistance which would cease on the arrival of a

corporal and half-a-dozen soldiers.

Bailly quitted the chair of President of the National Assembly on the 2d

of July. His scientific celebrity, his virtue, his conciliating spirit,

had not been superfluous in habituating certain men to see a member of

the Communes preside over an assembly in which there was a prince of the

blood, a prince of the church, the greatest lords of the kingdom, and

all the high dignitaries of the clergy. The first person named to

succeed to Bailly was the Duke d'Orléans. After his refusal, the

Assembly chose the Archbishop of Vienne (Pompignan).

Bailly recalls to mind with sensibility, in his memoirs, the testimonies

of esteem that he obtained through his difficult and laborious

presidency. The 3d of July, on the proposition of the Duke de la

Rochefoucauld and of the Archbishop of Bordeaux, the National Assembly

sent a deputation to their illustrious ex-president, to thank him (these

are the precise words) "for his noble, wise, and firm conduct." The

electoral body of Bordeaux had been beforehand with these homages. The

Chamber of Commerce of that town, at the same time, decided that the

portrait of the great citizen should decorate their hall of meeting. The

Academy of Sciences, the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles Lettres, did

not remain insensible to the glory that one of their members had

acquired in the career of politics, and testified it by numerous

deputations. Finally, Marmontel, in the name of the French Academy,

expressed to Bailly "how proud that assembly was to count, among its

members an Aristides that no one was tired of calling the Just."

I shall not excite surprise, I hope, by adding, after such brilliant

testimonies of sympathy, that the inhabitants of Chaillot celebrated the

return of Bailly amongst them by fêtes, and fireworks, and that even the

curate of the parish and the churchwardens, unwilling to be surpassed by

their fellow-citizens, nominated the historian of antediluvian astronomy

honorary churchwarden. I will, at all events, repress the smile that

might arise from such private reminiscences, by reminding the reader

that a man's moral character is better appreciated by his neighbours, to

whom he shows himself daily without disguise, than that of more

considerable persons, who are only seen on state occasions, and in

official costume.

BAILLY BECOMES MAYOR OF PARIS.--SCARCITY.--MARAT DECLARES HIMSELF

INIMICAL TO THE MAYOR.--EVENTS OF THE 6TH OF OCTOBER.

The Bastille had been taken on the 14th of July. That event, on which,

during upwards of half a century, there have been endless discussions,

on opposite sides, was characterized in the following way, in the

address to the National Assembly, drawn up by M. Moreau de Saint Méry,

in the name of the City Committee:--

"Yesterday will be for ever memorable by the taking of a citadel,

consequent on the Governor's perfidy. The bravery of the people was

irritated by the breaking of the word of honour. This act (the strongest

proof that the nation who knows best how to obey, is jealous of its just

liberties,) has been followed by incidents that from the public

misfortunes might have been foreseen."

Lally Tollendal said to the Parisians, on the 15th of July: "In the

disastrous circumstances that have just occurred, we did not cease to

participate in your griefs; and we have also participated in your anger;

it was just."

The National Assembly solicited and obtained permission from the king on

the 15th of July, to send a deputation to Paris, which they flattered

themselves would restore order and peace in that great city, then in a

convulsed state. Madame Bailly, always influenced by fear, endeavoured,

though vainly, to dissuade her husband from joining the appointed

deputies. The learned academician naïvely replied, "After a presidency

that has been applauded, I am not sorry to show myself to my

fellow-citizens." You see, Gentlemen, that Bailly always admits the

future reader of his Posthumous Memoirs confidentially into his most

secret feelings.

The deputation completed its mandate at the Town Hall, to the entire

satisfaction of the Parisian populace; the Archbishop of Paris, its

President, had already proposed to go in procession to the Cathedral to

sing _Te Deum_; they were preparing to depart, when the Assembly, giving

way to a spontaneous enthusiasm, with an unanimous voice, proclaimed

Bailly Mayor of Paris, and Lafayette Commander-in-Chief of the National

Guard, the creation of which had just been authorized.

The official minutes of the Municipality state, that on being thus

unexpectedly named, Bailly bent forward to the Assembly, his eyes bathed

in tears, and that amidst his sobs he could only utter a few unconnected

words to express his gratitude. The Mayor's own recital differs very

little from this official relation. Still I shall quote it as a model of

sincerity and of modesty.

"I know not whether I wept, I know not what I said; but I remember well

that I was never so surprised, so confused, and so beneath myself.

Surprise adding to my usual timidity before a large assembly, I rose, I

stammered out a few words that were not heard, and that I did not hear

myself, but which my agitation, much more than my mouth, rendered

expressive. Another effect of my sudden stupidity was, that I accepted

without knowing what a burden I was taking on myself."

Bailly having become Mayor, and being tacitly accepted by the National

Assembly, even from the 16th of July, availed himself of his intimacy

with Vicq-d'Azyr, the Queen's physician, to persuade Louis XVI. to show

himself to the Parisians. This advice was listened to. On the 17th the

new magistrate addressed the king near the barrière de la Conférence, in

a discourse that began thus:--

"I bring to your Majesty the keys of your good city of Paris. They are

the same that were presented to Henry IV. He had reconquered his people,

here the people have reconquered their king."

The antithesis: "he had reconquered his people, here the people have

reconquered their king," was universally applauded. But since then, it

has been criticized with bitterness and violence. The enemies of the

Revolution have striven to discover in it an intention of committing an

outrage, to which the character of Bailly, and still more so the first

glance at an examination of the rest of his discourse, give a flat

contradiction. I will acknowledge, Gentlemen, I think that I have even a

right to decline the epithet of "unfortunate," which one of our most

respectable colleagues in the French Academy has pronounced relative to

this celebrated phrase, while doing justice at the same time to the

sentiments of the author. The poison contained in the few words that I

have quoted, was very inoffensive, since more than a year passed without

any courtier, though furnished like a microscope with, all the

monarchical susceptibilities, beginning to suspect its existence.

The Mayor of Paris was at the Hôtel de Ville in the midst of those same

Parisian citizens who inspired him, a few months before, with the

mortifying reflection already quoted: "I remarked in the Assembly of

Electors a dislike to literary people and Academicians." The feeling did

not appear to be changed.

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